


it's always the first time

by stellaviatores



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Awkward Flirting, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 05:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellaviatores/pseuds/stellaviatores
Summary: Paul was hoping to spend his coffee break alone. Of course, the universe doesn't work in his favour.Or maybe it does.





	it's always the first time

**Author's Note:**

> I binged disco in two days and immediately wrote this bc I'm always here for snarky gays ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

He introduces himself as Culber, Hugh Culber, and it's not for another six years and a movie marathon later that Paul gets the reference. At the time he's still a wet-behind-the-ears undergrad, strung out on too much caffeine and too many late nights at the lab to catch a classic pop culture joke, so sue him if he just rolls his eyes and snaps at the grinning stranger to stifle it.

"Not a fan of Kasseelian opera?" he asks, leaning back in the chair Paul had hoped to keep very, very vacant for the duration of his break.

"I am when it's done well."

Culber's lip twitches. "I'll take that as constructive criticism."

"Or you could just take it as straight criticism," Paul replies, eyes trained on his PADD. An offer from Starfleet has come through - science track, with honours and the chance to serve on a flagship one day. He flicks it into his junk mail.

Culber is staring.

"What?"

"You look tired."

Paul snorts. "Thanks."

"When did you last sleep?"

"When did you last stop prying into other peoples' lives?"

"I'm a doctor; it's my duty to pry." Culber pauses, thumb tracing the rim of his coffee cup. Long black, no sugar from the looks of it. Paul's throat burns in sympathy. "Well, I'm studying to be one, at any rate. What about you?"

"I'm going to be a hermit," Paul says dryly, "and you're fucking up my study."

Culber just shoots him an easy grin. "I'd say you're gonna graduate with flying colours. I've seen you here before, you know. Always sitting in this corner, alone."

"That's creepy. You know that's creepy, right?"

"It's not creepy if I do the same," Culber shrugs. "So: you're a student. Super anti-social, unless I'm a special case, but I don't think I am. You're gorgeous. You're always frowning at your PADD. You look like an engineer. Hoping to get into Starfleet?"

"Right, wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong," he recites, then pauses. "Did you call me gorgeous?"

"Why not Starfleet?"

"Because I'm secretly a Klingon spy. Seriously, did you say gorgeous?"

"Klingon spy, hm? Mind if I interrogate you further?" A hand inches towards Paul's, just shy of touching. "Maybe over dinner?"

Paul blinks. Then blinks again, because this perfect stranger has asked him out on a date, and it's the first time in Paul's adult life that a guy is asking _him_ , not the other way 'round. "Uh," he says, ever the eloquent. "Um, well. Uh."

"It's alright if you're not interested," Culber amends, eyes saying anything but. His hand draws back. "We can just be friends, if you're not -"

Paul snatches his wrist before he pulls away completely. "No! No, I mean," he forces himself to take a steady breath and not lose himself to the feel of Culber's skin on his, their pulses matching each other. "Yes, I'd like to go to dinner with you."

Culber laughs, and, fuck, Paul could get used to hearing that. "Pass your PADD," he requests, and perhaps it's a little weird how easily Paul gives it up, but whatever. That's something to examine later, when he's very drunk and more inclined to naval gazing on what could possibly be the most momentous encounter of his life. Culber - Hugh - takes it, fingers brushing Paul's, and quickly taps something in. Paul absolutely does not blush when he hands it back. "There. I've gotta get to a lecture, but message me, yeah?"

"Yeah," Paul says, dazed. Hugh stands, pushes his chair in (good _God_ , he’s such a _gentleman_ , his mother is going to _faint_ ) and shoots Paul a wink before leaving the cafe just as quickly as he arrived.

When Hugh has faded into the crowd beyond, Paul looks down at his PADD. Hugh has put in his contact information with a note: _you really are gorgeous_.

Paul tries not to look like every single one of his nerves are alive and singing, but from the look the barista is sending him, he's failing miserably. He couldn't care less.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://mutantmeme.tumblr.com)


End file.
